My Name Is Boba Fett
by Dobokoyuramon
Summary: The young Boba Fett mourns greatly over the loss of his father. Where will he go now, and how? Very short story.


            Young Boba Fett carefully looked down as the battle was diminished and flew elsewhere. The Jedis had escaped, pursued by Dooku and others, but not before leaving him something. He made his way slowly down into the dusty, blood-coated arena, searching among the corpses for the one he sought. Metal was scattered about his feet, making it difficult to walk. But one object stood out to him; one silver helmet. Crouching down rigidly, he reached out to touch the cool metal, but drew back with a short yelp at the sight of the blood dripping from it. The boy continued to stare at it for a long time. How long, he didn't know, but the sky had grown a shade darker by the time he realized his state. Gingerly extending his arms, Boba clasped his fingers around the helmet and lifted it. "Dad…" he felt tears brimming in his eyes as he gently pressed his head against the headwear.

            'Never trust a Jedi, Boba.' He remembered his father saying once to him. 'They might be convincing, but never look at them twice unless the price is right.'

            The only price his father had paid was his head. He didn't know what he would do now. Of course, his father's death was something always kept in his mind. 'You know I can't live forever. Hell, I might not make it through the night. So be ready for it; don't be surprised.' He had said. Boba knew well how to fly the ship, after all, his father taught him all he needed to know for just such an occasion. But that didn't help his pain. He was so alone now. The little Fett whimpered and broke into tears. They were hot, searing down his face as he pushed the helmet away. "Why'd he kill you, Dad?" he sobbed, stroking the visor. "Y-you were just trying to help…You were just…just doing your job…" he started to choke over his words, and his thoughts became irrational and panicked. "What am I gonna do? I can't be alone, Dad, I can't! Please…please don't…don't…" he clutched the helmet back and held it tightly to his chest. 

            He hushed quickly as he scanned the rest of the field. Standing shakily, he ambled over to his father's body and kneeled again. The lifeless body made no move to ruffle his hair, or pat his back. It gave him no reassuring words, and protected him from nothing. Now it only lay motionless, as dormant as the armor on his back was when it were not worn. He never had experienced death until now. Perhaps he had seen people killed on the faces of his father's victims each day, but to him it bore no meaning. Now he saw what death was, and he despised it. It was horrific and degrading, that corpse there with no honor, no proper mourning. It was simply so terrible, he almost couldn't bare it. It was something he could only wish for his father's killer. 

            He laid his head down on the body's chest and let his tears flow freely, spilling off of the armor. After a long while, he drifted into a very uncomfortable sleep. 

            Boba was sitting on a ledge, looking down as he griped his father's gun. The air about him was strange and surreal, waving up and down like a great wave of heat. "I'm sorry, Dad…I couldn't help…" his voice echoed. 

            "There he is! There's the bounty hunter's son! Get him!" he heard many voices shout from behind him. 

            Upon turning, he saw three large men, charging towards him as they wielded their light sabers. "No, go away!" he stood and backed up. 

            "There he is!" one repeated. "Don't let him escape!"

            Boba jumped off the ledge and landed a few feet below, looking up at the quickly chasing Jedis. Being the only thing he could do, he ran as fast as he could, jumping and tripping all over himself. His blood grew hotter and hotter, but the buzzing whir of the weapons only came closer. Finally, he couldn't run any further, and he collapsed in a heaving mass, coughing and wheezing as though he were near death. Turning onto his back, he observed the men as they approached. 

            "Let's kill him and get it over with!" another said in a deep voice. They were all dirty and ragged. "Now that's his daddy's not around, he'll be a snap to kill. 

            With a loud clash and a bang, Boba saw the men all flail backwards and cry out in fear. Before him, he saw his father land, the fire from his jet pack fizzling. While the men were indisposed, the hunter turned sharply to his son and grabbed his shirt, pulling him up. "Run, Boba! Get out of here!"

            "But Dad!" he choked. 

            "Damn it, you do what I tell you! Go! Please!" the last word came out pleading and rushed, begging him to run while there was a chance. 

            "I don't want you to die!" he sobbed, reached to hug him.

            The older Fett pushed him away. "Now you listen to me! I don't regret anything I did! You understand that, that's what being a bounty hunter is about!" he knelt down and grabbed his shoulders. "I can't be with you anymore, Boba. But please, please keep running! And don't turn around until you're ready to kill, because that's just what you have to do." He ran one hand down his son's face. "If you love me as much as I love you, than you have to trust me. Go on! Go on now!" with that, he shoved the boy away and drew his gun, ready to fire.

            Boba ran. He ran even faster than he thought he could, until he couldn't hear the firing of weapons anymore, until he couldn't hear the angry yells.

            Boba awoke with a start, inhaling a breath quickly as his eyes focused to the world around him. It was very dark now. Lifting his body away from his father, he felt a weight on his back. When he moved, it slid off onto the ground beside him. It was his father's arm which had been on his back. Did he put it there? Was it some kind of joke? Did he shift under it in his sleep? He clutched the hand for a moment and looked down before grabbing the helmet next to him. He placed the helmet back where the head should be, and crossed one dead arm over the chest. "Goodbye, Dad…" he clenched his eyes shut and stood, wiping the tears from his face. "My name is Boba Fett!" he screamed to the sky. "You better remember that name you Jedi bastard! I won't be easy to kill! I won't be tricked! I won't stop until your head's where it should be-bloody in the dirt!" and with a furious, yet respectfully careful motion, took his father's gun and left the arena.


End file.
